


Picture This

by Taz



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: Comedy, Genderswap, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 20:51:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taz/pseuds/Taz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just a little bump in the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picture This

_The powerful dark-haired god bends to brand the pliant mouth of his honey-gold lover with a kiss…_

Pause.

Okay, go—

… _their moist lips cling together. He inhales his lover’s strong musky scent as though it were the sweetest ambrosia and drinks the greasy bitter sweat with a thirsty tongue. Knowing hands exchange rough caresses, each stroke answered wordlessly with breathless moans as their thighs bow the sweet, private music of bodies in tune._

That’s beautiful, isn’t it? Sex, after all, is sensation in harmony building to a sublime crescendo. Beatiful.

But when your rhythm’s off, you may as well be trying out for the Royal Corinthian Circus. Kazoo players, jugglers, bearded ladies…you'll fit right in with the whole moth-eaten dog and pony show.

So, let’s start over—

Hercules lifted his face for a kiss at the same moment Ares leaned over to plant one. Head smashed into mandible with a crack and a yelp. Ares said, “Whups!” as he was tossed unceremoniously out of his own private Elysium. There was no damage done as far as he was concerned but when he sat up Hercules was curled up clutching his face. “You all right?”

“Dab’id, Ares! Wa’ wha’ cher doi’g!” Hercules took his hand away from his mouth. Blood was dribbling from his nose. “I think one of my teeth is loose!”

“Sorry, babe, bad timing.” Ignoring Hercules’ muffled “un’er dademen’ of ‘a cendury,” Ares sympathized –that had to hurt. But worse, much worse, was that his cock was already keening loudly for the warm port it had just been docked in. So, he waited…expecting a quick cuddle and a quicker return to satisfaction. He waited…but Hercules kept nursing his face. Finally, he said, “C’mere, babe. Let me see.”

“Get off!” Hercules batted away the groping hand.

“What’s the matter? I said I was sorry!”

“It feels like my jaw’s cracked.”

“Not likely!”

In the sudden ugly silence, his cock gave an irritated little bounce, reminding him of what they were there for and Hercules said, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means if that Samson guy ever needs to raze another temple...” (Ares’ Rules for Winning Wars—Rule #1: Assume the offensive. Rule #2: Beat the shit out them. Rule #3—There is no #3.)

“Very funny.” Hercules took his hand from his face, glared at the blood on it, and dabbed at his leaking nose. “It hurts!”__

_Aw, that’s cute—he sulks just like his brother._ Ares didn’t make the observation out loud; he was still hoping to get laid. Instead, eying the downy inner thigh of Hercules’ right leg, he crooned, “Come here and let me kiss it better.” And reached for handful of what he wanted. “I’ll kiss a few other things too.”

“No.” Hercules got up and stalked away. “The mood’s spoiled.”

Ares’ hand snapped shut._ That’s not the only thing that’s spoiled around here_.

Hercules came back, wiping his face. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

“What do you mean? You want to go back to trying to kill each other? It’s the best idea I—ah—‘we’ve’ ever had!”

“No, but...” Hercules climbed back on the bed and threw the stained towel on the night stand. Ares was disappointed he wasn’t going to get a chance to lick the blood off—to clean him up and reduce him to compliant mush in the process. Those gentle restrained kisses hid a raging hunger to be touched that broke out under his hands. There was something about fucking Hercules—once the demigod was pinned and all that power was responding to every thrust of his cock—that Ares couldn’t get enough of. It was like the first mastering of a war-horse.

While he was thinking about that he was presented with the back of a broad shoulder and realized he hadn’t been paying attention. “...you were a woman it wouldn’t have happened.”

“If I was a—!”

The candle was blown out. Ares found himself in the dark with his mouth open. __

_I should fry you where you lay!_ He flopped back on the bed in disgust, knowing he wasn’t going to do it.

But he brooded, listening to Hercules’ breathing deepen, and his cock ticked mournfully across his stomach. He commiserated with it. _I can’t..._stroke_...believe..._stroke..._he told..._stroke..._me, if..._stroke_...I was a..._stroke..._woman..._stroke_..._ Betting that, despite the steady susurrations, Hercules’ ears were flapping, he gave a few good hard pulls._ Balls! If I was..._stroke..._wouldn’t..._stroke..._know..._stroke..._to do..._stroke..._if I was a..._stroke_...was a..._stroke...

With a god, there’s little difference between the thought and the deed.__

_...I was...oh...o-oh...oh, that’s nice. _For a while he luxuriated in the rush of inverted feeling, playing between ornate folds of flesh, dipping into a fountain of thick cream and spreading that over the swollen miniature his cock had become, fighting the impulse to gig- er-snicker.

The last was pure vindictiveness. He could sense Hercules going rigid beside him as the essential nature of the change wafted through the air, registered on the lizard brain and communicating the impossible to the slough of conflicting impulses that passed for his brother’s conscious mind.

The bed shook.

That was Hercules fumbling for the tinderbox and Ares listened to the steel tap-dance nervously in the flint ring.

As the candle flared, he gave his cunt a last flick, crossed his ankles, raised his arms, and clasped his hands behind his neck.

“Hey, Sailor!” he said as Hercules whipped around. And was interested to observe how much those sky-blue eyes could look like dinner plates. He waited for the explosion. He waited...

And Hercules said, “This is a new look for you.”

The thing about powerful horses is that sometimes they throw you. He wagged his head in awe and thrust a sticky finger under Hercules’ nose. “I really don’t know why they say you’re slow. Recognize her?”

“Discord?”

“Dis—? You’re not saying our sister’s a tramp?”

“Yes.”

“A slut?”

“Yes.”

“A cheap hetaera?”

“No, she was worth every bit of that half-dinar.”

“You never screwed Discord!”

“No,” Hercules said, “but now I’ll be able to find her in the dark.”

“Stop that!” Ares suppressed the grin that was threatening to break out. “I’m trying to be pissed at you.”

“Then you should’ve left yourself something to aim with.”

Oh yeah, every now and then they throw you. Ares’ mouth quirked and they both broke up, side by side on the bed, howling with laughter.

He was wiping his eyes, about to change back, when he caught the look on Hercules’ face. Curious, he got up on an elbow. “What are you thinking?”

“I think,” Hercules plucked the candle from its dish, and scooted to the foot of the bed, “I want to take a closer look.”

Ares lay down, intrigued. Maybe the joke hadn’t turned out the way he’d planned, but he was willing to let the horse have its head.

The candle was only a two-inch stub and he could feel the heat on his skin when Hercules lifted his left foot up and held the flame close to it. Studying Hercules as Hercules studied the foot in his hand, he thought how predatory those blue eyes looked with their odd tilt enhanced by the candlelight. The swollen upper lip made the face seem vulnerable, even rapt, but _you know you aren’t quite as human as you wish you were. I hate it when you hold out on me. _As if hearing, Hercules glanced up, caught his gaze, and held it as he bent and started sucking, poking his tongue between the toes of Ares foot.

Little thrills ran up his legs as Hercules tongued the arch of his foot and kissed the ankle. Licking and nipping, he worked his way up and when he got to the knee, lifted Ares’ leg to his shoulder so he could nose the hollow underneath.

“Watch what you’re doing,” Ares said. The candle with its pool of melted wax was now wavering above a delicate spot.

“All right.” Hercules leaned forward and put down it between his breasts, “Don’t move.”

He settled back and drew a line with his tongue along the inside of Ares’ thigh. Halfway down, he stopped and said, “The hair on your legs is softer.” Then finished the line with his face right above the soft mound of fur. “Your pubes are curlier.” His nostrils were flaring and he looked at Ares with half-closed eyes. “But I think the tide’s out.”

“I think I should...” Ares pulled his other knee back to give the smart-ass a kick in the head.

“No you shouldn’t!” Hercules grabbed his leg, pushed it wide, and buried his face in Ares’ cunt. The candle came close to spilling over.__

_Cronos! I hate it when you hold out on me...but when you let go...! _He lost the thought. Hercules’ tongue had found the spot, his body asserted its need, and he pushed up, moaning. The candle’s heat bathed his face as he was washed with gentle velvet lashings. When Hercules bit down, tongue vibrating against the tip of his clit, he convulsed in waves of bubbling pleasure. The brimming wax did spill then, splashing his breasts and his cunt contracted again. By the time his brain stopped fizzing and the last spasm had passed, he was totally ruined for any call to arms.

Hercules was stropping his damp face against Ares’ knee. Ares could feel the rasp of new beard. Gasping softly, Ares laughed. “I know why women like you. You’re a dog.”

Hercules opened his eyes and ran a finger along the lips of Ares’ cunt. “I made you wet.”

Ares forgave the smugness as the finger slyly dipped inside. He squeezed, trying to hold on, but it slipped away.

“What’s it like?” Hercules said.

Suddenly sharp for cock, he said, “Fuck me and I’ll tell you.”

“I haven’t finished looking yet.” The finger found its way in again and he rocked on it impatiently. “Candle’s going to tip if you keep that up,” Hercules said.

He stopped and the finger began slipping in and out, teasing him.

“Do me!”

“I am.”

“No, fuck me. Use your cock.”

“Women.” Hercules sighed in resignation and got up on his knees. “This is what you all want.”

Hips thrust, Hercules’ dark-tipped cock poked the air. Ares pictured a stallion as the odor reached his nose.

“Yes,” he said, spreading his legs. The mare needed the stud.

“You sure this time?” Hercules leaned over and took the candle to put back in its dish. “Earlier, it was my ass.”

“I was different then.” He reached for what he wanted.

“Hey! Don’t be so grabby.” Hercules, laughing, seized his hands, pressing them on the bed.

The blunt tip of Hercules’ cock was so close that Ares could push up and feel it poking between the lips of his cunt. He raised his hips to wrap his legs around Hercules’ waist and slide up on it.

Hercules leaned harder, trying to control him. “Wait a minute, I—”

The cock was nuzzling him and Ares tired to trap it. It refused to be caught but the feel of it on his swollen flesh was torment, a cheat. “Bastard!” he said knowing the word would hurt.

“Bitch!”

His chin was jerked around and Ares was looking into blue-white rage. He could feel Hercules’ cock pressing hard and thrilled. He dug his nails into Hercules’ back knowing the bloody scratches he had to be leaving. “Whoresonbastard!”

Slap!

The blow rang in his ears as his cheek flamed. “Shut up!” The hand in his hair wrenched his head around. “Can’t you ever just shut up?”

Hands dug under his ass and lifted. He was speared and howled wordlessly about it until his mouth was stopped with a hot thrusting tongue. A finger plugged his ass. He hitched himself and drove it deeper while he arched into Hercules’ cock.

Ares tore his mouth away and scraped his face, burying his hands in Hercules’ hair, dragging the demigod's head down. “Give it to me. Give me what I need,” he urged, the words pounded out over Hercules’ hoarse crying. Hercules labored, straining against Ares’ hands until he lifted his head to cry out and rose up, carrying Ares with him as he came.

Ridden by passion, power spreading from his center to his fingertips, Ares threw his head back, exulting in his godhead. “Ah,” he said as the nimbus of power crested and began to die back. “Ah.”

Straddling Hercules’ thighs, slick with cum beneath his ass, he was himself again. Hercules’ head was on his shoulder and he could feel hot tears running down his chest. “Did you get what you wanted?” Hercules whispered angrily. “Was that enough for you?”

Sweat glued his arms to Hercules’ back, but he pulled them loose and lifted the demigod’s head, relishing the confusion and pain in his eyes. Pleased, Ares let himself sprawl back, showing Hercules his bearded face and male body.

Hercules looked and Ares saw his cock twitch.

“I hate you,” Hercules said, folding into his arms.

“I know you do.”

“Why do you push me?” The voice was as much desperate as sleepy to Ares’ ear.

“I want to.”

“I was trying not to hurt you.”

“I’m a god.” Ares said, as if that settled everything.

After a minute Hercules said, “I’m not.”__

_But don’t you know, gods feed on the passions of mortals; your hunger is a feast for me._ He didn’t say it. He was tempted to ask Hercules what he was really getting from the people he helped, but his brother’s stubborn innocence was part of his charm...

Ares smiled. “I was beautiful, wasn’t I?”

“You were a bitch in heat.”

“I was a goddess,” Ares insisted.

“There’s no difference… ” There was a hot gusty yawn against his ear. “You’re definitely a ten-dinar fuck, but all I meant was I’ve never had a lover so near me in size and it wouldn’t have happened if you were...”

Charming to a point!

Ares erupted.“Why didn’t you just tell me I was beautiful!”

“All right, you were beautiful,” Hercules said. “But even Discord has ‘two’ eyebrows.”

“Just for that, next time—!” Ares jabbed a finger in his rib. “You’re the girl!”

 

_Finis_

11 November, 2000


End file.
